


In My Words

by liddellmisswitch13



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4905205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddellmisswitch13/pseuds/liddellmisswitch13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among the remains of the nuclear base on Shadow Moses, Intel Team has recovered documents that had survived devastation. This excerpt was written on the back of scratch paper, and the author is currently unknown. Usage of this document must be cleared by the Archive Department. #4TR33</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Words

**Author's Note:**

> References to Metal Gear V: TPP, possible Spoilers.

_Note: Among the remains of the nuclear base on Shadow Moses, Intel team has recovered documents that had survived devastation. This excerpt was written on the back of scratch paper, and the author is currently unknown. Usage of this document must be cleared by the Archive Department. #4TR33_

* * *

 

 

February, 2005

 

My life, as I remember, had been a difficult one. A lot of people have remarked that, due to the lack of a maternal presence, I became this way. It was more than not having a loving mother. My case was special. There was a lot of things I lacked, and it had never occurred to me what it was I lacked until adulthood. Children at eleven had a mother, a father, a happy home, and a few friends.

            I had a dead mother, a hateful father, and a future of War’s little slave. I never knew that. Now as a grown man, I see just how tragic it was. However, I did have a friend. Only one, someone to call a brother, a confidant. I knew him from when we were this high, too young to know what cynicism was. However, it was already deeply embedded in our skulls. I didn’t speak much, but when I met him, I was given back my words.

            Besides my words, what Eli gave to me was his name. No one else could call him his _real_ name. Only I could, in private. It was an honor. I had no name, the one given to me by my father long gone. I was just…the number three. Despite his contempt for my leaving, we remained close.

            What we dreamt of as young boys: make the world pay for the folly it had dealt us… It’s so close—I can feel it in my bones. After I left him, I dove deeper within human nature. Murderers, psychopaths…even know I rattle in the night, remembering their disgusting thoughts, ones that would make me physically ill… Perhaps it’s why I joined him when he asked, why I came this far. No sane person would ever agree to this.

            I guess the reason I’m writing this is because I know this is grandiose, but there’s no turning back from this. What was his dream, is now my dream. If I’m not doing it for him, I must be for him. Since we were children, I followed what his will wanted. I had no purpose, and perhaps that has cost me much more than I am willing to admit.

            If we fail, will there be another chapter for us—all of us? Has God not have the mercy? For their sake, and my own, I pray that there is. Shadow Moses… Will we be forgotten? Will he remember me, should he survive? In my moments of clarity and nostalgia, I find myself knowing we are brothers—closer than our genes, something he hates so much.

            Am I afraid? To die that is… I asked myself this question as a child, under the heavy weight of those who controlled me: “Are you afraid to die today?” With Eli, I wasn’t afraid of anything. I would die that day with no regrets. My life was well lived.

            But now, with death so close around the bend, and Eli possibly going somewhere I cannot follow? I find myself hesitant to jump, hold onto the hand that is offered to me. The feeling is…depressing. I remember as children we made a pact to stick together until one of us died. I broke it, going off to join the KGB. He remained bitter about it, but he came looking for me, to join this cause.

            I could have walked away, but I felt like I had to make up for leaving him alone all those years ago. Now we are here, drunk on the revenge and hate that drove us together. I have a strong feeling it was going to drive us into an early grave.

            Whether I am ready or not is not what is important. What is important is that I stay loyal and faithful to my boss, my friend—my brother of toxic blood. For my fallen comrades, may God have mercy on your souls. For me and my Boss, I hope the Devil is ready for Hell to be turned upside down.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a small headcanon-type of reflection that Psycho Mantis might have had, as the fruition of the Shadow Moses Incident was coming to an end. Of course there's some hints to Metal Gear V: TPP. Kind of short, but I felt like it needed to be somewhere.


End file.
